


Bacon Rolls and Coffee

by fredbassett



Category: Lost Worlds, Lost Worlds - Andrew Lane
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhino has had another run in with Nemor Inc and is suffering the consequences. Gecko’s presence is definitely helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bacon Rolls and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/gifts).



Rhino Gillis stared ruefully at himself in a mirror. His torso was already starting to turn black and blue from the kicking he’d taken from three Nemor Incorporated thugs in a back alley in Reading.

They’d been after the DNA sample from their latest foray into the wild and wonderful world he’d inhabited since hooking up with Calum Challenger and his friends. But what the thugs hadn’t realised was that Rhino had a dummy sample taken from nothing more exciting than an armadillo, while Gecko and Tara had the real sample.

The intention had been to let the guys from Nemor Inc get the drop on him and grab the sample, and that part had gone entirely according to plan. Then just as soon as they’d relieved him of the bag containing the specimen tubes, he’d fought back, and he’d got in some good strikes, dislocating at least one knee and breaking one bloke’s arm, but he’d still taken a few unavoidable hits.

Probing his own chest with his fingertips, Rhino failed to suppress a gasp of pain. It looked like one of the sods had got in a lucky hit to his ribs, possibly cracking one of them. He took a deep breath in attempt to confirm his own diagnosis. It fucking hurt, which was a bit of a giveaway. Rhino grimaced at his own reflection. Oh well, he’d just have to take things easy for a while. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been knocked about like this. He’d bust at least three ribs at one time or another in his time in the Regiment. There was sod all to be gained by seeing a medic, all they’d do was give a garage mechanic’s sharp intake of breath – something he’d have to avoid for a while – and tell him to lay off the press ups for six weeks.

“I told you it was a stupid plan,” said a voice from the doorway.

“The front door’s locked and you haven’t got a key,” Rhino said, talking into the mirror to Gecko’s reflection.

“The skylight in your bathroom was very easy to open.”

Rhino turned around a little too quickly.

“Jesus, Gecko, I live on the tenth floor.”

Gecko just grinned at him and wandered off into the kitchen, no doubt in search of coffee. Rhino undid the belt of his jeans, slid his trousers and underwear down and stepped out of them, careful not to get his feet tangled up. The movement hurt. Gecko was right, it probably had been a stupid idea, but it had been worth it to get one over on their friends from Nemor Inc.

The jets of hot water from his shower helped to loosen muscles that had been in danger of cramping. Rhino squirted some citrus body wash into his hand – a Christmas present from Natalie – and proceeded to get rid of the sweat and grime from the ruckus in the alley. He had a nasty scrape on one knee and another on his left elbow, but apart from the bruises and the cracked rib, he hadn’t come off too badly. Nothing that wouldn’t heal.

He gave his hair a perfunctory wash and then stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the heated rail. Definitely decadent, but it felt good. He could smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen as well as something else… the unmistakeable aroma of frying bacon.

Rhino’s stomach rumbled loudly in the silence of his bedroom. “I think I’m in love,” he muttered, winding the towel around his waist and following his nose into the kitchen.

Gecko sliced four bread rolls, loaded them with bacon and topped each off with a liberal squirt of tomato sauce. He stuck two on a plate and handed them to Rhino with the instruction, “Eat.”

Rhino didn’t need telling twice. He knew he was suffering from the inevitable crash and burn that followed an adrenaline high, and the best way of riding that out was to give his system some food to process. A hefty jolt of caffeine wouldn’t go amiss, either. The coffee Gecko had handed him was the liquid equivalent of being kicked by a mule. Rhino could start to feel its effects almost immediately. He bolted the first of the bacon rolls down with positively indecent haste then leaned back in his seat at the kitchen table and closed his eyes for a moment. 

Two warm hands settled on his shoulders, and Gecko’s long fingers started to work their magic on the corded muscles in his neck. Gecko’s fingertips, roughened by their constant contact with stone and bricks in his aerial perambulations, felt good on his skin, and Rhino relaxed into them, letting Gecko work the knots out of his muscles, probing skilfully, knowing exactly when to apply pressure and exactly when to do no more than ghost over his skin, raising goosebumps with their passage.

It felt fucking good.

One hand dipped down over his chest, lightly stroking his nipples. In an instant they’d both turned to pebble hardness, straining for Gecko’s touch. When Gecko rolled one between his finger and thumb, it was as though someone had applied a light electric shock to Rhino’s groin and he could feel his cock hardening beneath the white towel wound around his waist.

“Touch yourself.” Gecko’s breath ghosted over his ear making his cock positively sit up and beg.

Rhino’s head fell back against the flat plane of Gecko’s stomach. The Brazilian didn’t carry an ounce of fat on his spare frame. When he didn’t immediately move to undo the towel, Gecko leaned down and did it for him.

“I said, touch yourself,” he repeated. “I cannot give you a wank and a massage at the same time. You need to do some of the work yourself.”

Rhino laughed and was rewarded by a stabbing pain in his chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Do not make me tell you a third time,” Gecko retorted, digging both thumbs into the back of Rhino’s neck. It hurt, but he knew from past massages that he’d feel a hell of a lot better afterwards.

Obediently, he let one hand settle on his cock and start stroking. He kept it light, wanting to make this last. The feel of Gecko’s hands on his shoulders was wonderful and provided he didn’t made any sudden movements, Rhino was already beginning to forget about the fact that his chest was now black and blue and one knee looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to it.

He let his fingers drift slowly up and down his hard shaft, pulling his foreskin back off the engorged head and using the pre-come already beading at the tip to slick its movements. The advantage of doing this himself was that Rhino knew exactly when to back off to prolong the pleasure. As he worked on himself, Gecko continued to run his hands over Rhino’s solders, working outwards now in wide sweeps, pressing down with his thumbs and then feathering his fingers over now-heated skin.

Rhino was breathing faster now, doing his best to keep the rise and fall of his bruised chest as even as possible. He ran the palm of his hand over the head of his cock and then teased at the slit with his fingertips. Gecko’s hands slid down over his chest and suddenly the nub of each hard nipple was being rolled and pinched between finger and thumb.

“Fuck!” Rhino came with a gasp, come shooting into the trail of hair that led down to his groin.

“Not if you have a broken rib,” Gecko murmured.

“It’s probably only cracked,” Rhino said, in the interests of strict accuracy.

“Ah, naturally that makes all the difference.”

Gecko’s fingers continued to tease at Rhino’s nipples while reaction chased a butterfly path up and down his spine.

“Christ, that was good.”

Gecko dropped a light kiss onto the top of Rhino’s head.

“Eat your second roll before it goes cold.”

“I’m definitely in love.” 

The fact that he’d finally spoken those words out loud brought a flush to his cheeks that owed nothing to his recent climax, but the lips that met his hungrily told him that the declaration had been well-received.

The bacon roll could always be reheated.


End file.
